


Time

by TheQueen



Series: To Learn To Understand [5]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dark, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Kidnapping, M/M, Soulmates, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-09-13
Packaged: 2017-12-16 11:55:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/861729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheQueen/pseuds/TheQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin isn't going to last long the way things are going.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <sub>The third installment of a series called <em>To Learn To Understand</em>.</sub><br/><sub>Thorin and Fili are kidnapped by Azog before Battle of Azanulbizar. Thorin, affected by the Stockholm Syndrom, falls in love with his kidnapper after some time while Fili is raised as Azog's son.</sub><br/><sub>This is their lives.</sub><br/><sub>PS: Looking for someone to write or at least co-write smut for this story. Comment if interested!</sub></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A forest bird never wants a cage.

Henrik Ibsen

* * *

Fili woke him for breakfast with a gentle shake of the shoulders and a strained smile.

He could tell his dear nephew was beginning to worry for him. And how could Fili not?

He did not eat. He could not sleep. Every day, he sat lifeless on a rocking chair facing the solitary window in their apartment. Sometimes, he could find the energy to knit or read or write. But most of the time, he did nothing but wait for the sun to set so he could return to his bed.

And while Thorin knew he was hurting his nephew, who deserved so much better from him, he could not change himself. He no longer had the will to move, to fight, to _be_. And as every day dragged on, what little life he had left continued to leave him until he was sure he would die in these rooms, turned to sand.

Six months…six months had passed since that orc had taken his nephew and himself from their people.

A first, Thorin had attempted to escape. Each time, his madness had cost him a night in the dungeon where that pale orc, who called himself Azog, would sit by his cell and in broken common beg for him to calm himself, to accept his fate. But Thorin would have none of it and his rage frightened even himself. For Thorin would spit at his captor's face and screamed till his voice grew hoarse that he would never allow himself to become that thing's pet, all the while, ratting the bars and throwing fists at the wall.

At one point, he'd become so enraged, he'd attempted to strangle that fowl creature through the bars of his cell...and he still did not understood why it nearly let...

It was only when during one of his escape attempts that Fili was injured by one of the guards that Thorin finally accepted that he would not be able to leave here by force.

So now he sat, trapped like a song bird in a pretty little cage - for the rooms he held were immaculate if not a little gaudy in their design and rivaled the richness he was familiar with even in Erebor - waiting to see what Azog would do to him next.

For he was under no impression that his fate here would end pleasantly. These were orcs, the blackest of creatures, servants of the Dark Lord Sauron. He'd grew up hearing stories of their cruelty and had spent most of his adult life fighting these creatures when they attempted to take their caverns now that the Dragon had exiled them from their home.

He only wished he could have spared his nephew this fate.

A small hiccupping noise, brought him out of his thoughts and he looked up to find that he had moved to the dining table where Fili, his sweet innocent Fili, had set a plate for him. Across from him, Fili held his face in his hands, shoulder's shaking.

Guilt shot through Thorin as hot and cruel as a dagger and slowly he rose to gather his nephew into his arms. Rocking the child softly, he settled them on one of the plush couches that dotted the room.

Instead of insulting them both by asking what was wrong, he murmured sweet, meaningless phrases like "hush little one" and "all will be well." But it only caused Fili to cry harder.

Not for the first time, Thorin ached for Dis. He was not cut form a maternal cloth. His sister would not have had any trouble calming his little nephew down. And while Fili had enjoyed spending the afternoons playing with his Uncle in the field, Thorin could tell that he longed for his mother to care for him in ways that Thorin was not able.

"'m so-sowry," Fili said once he'd seemed to have lost the ability to create any more tears, though his shoulders continued to heave.

"Shhhh…my little One, you have nothing to be sorry for." Thorin sighed, pulling his nephew closer. Fili deserved better than this. He deserved his mother and his father. He deserved to run around and play with other dwarflings. Not stay cooped up in these rooms at the mercy of these horrid creatures, may the Vala strike them.

"I - I...Please," Fili sobbed, "Pw-Please smile again."

Thorin could feel tears gathering in his own eyes. Tears for his nephews. Tears for their hopelessness. And tears for all that they had lost, "I am so sorry, my dear Fili, Oh…I wish I could…So...sorry..."

That was not the answer Fili had been looking for and it brought forth another wave of tears and Thorin could do nothing but ride it out with him, his own tears falling.

Thorin wished he could take his words back, lie, and tell Fili he'd be all right. But he could not lie to his young charge, he'd never been able to even when the truth was not so easy to bear.

For Thorin knew he would not survive another six months in this cage. He would not be able to stand it.

Only time would tell when these rooms finally killed him.

…

That was how Blodog found them two hours later, curled up on the couch, fast asleep with tear marks on their cheeks.

He walked over and, with great care and reverence for this was his brother-in-all-but-blood's greatest treasure, lifted Thorin and his nephew from the sofa and carried them to the bed in the next room.

So worn out where the two dwarves, that Thorin merely tightened his grip on his nephew and murmured a soft "thank you" when Blodog lifted the covers over the weary dwarves.

"Nothin' o'it, **mənim şahzadə** ," Blodog replied in broken Common. It had been long since he had studied the language having never needed a reason to speak it.

Walking slowly around the room, he blew out the candles and closed the drapes before finally taking his leave to speak to Azog.

Brother or not. He needed to realize what he was doing to his **könül**.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***Translations:**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  **mənim şahzadə** \- my prince/princess
> 
>  
> 
> **Thoughts on This Chapter:**
> 
>  
> 
> 1 - It's also been decided by me that Dwalin and Fili will get their own POVs because I hate myself.
> 
> 2 - Sex scene coming your way...You sure no one wants to write it for me? *crying*
> 
> 3 - Up next, Dwalin's POV about what the hell has been going on recently.
> 
> 4 - How much would you all hate me if I had Thorin go insane and have him try to do the whole Murder-Suicide thing?


	2. Chapter 2

**"Qardaş, I must speak with you,"** Blodog said as he entered Azog's private chambers. 

It was dark, the curtains drawn and the fire near dying so the low light bounced off the gold and silver to give an eerie sort of glow to the usually elegant King's Rooms. 

**"Then speak,"** Azog answered in reply as he entered the sitting rooms and collapsed onto the sofa. He wore the clothes of the common man, his war clothes no where to be found. An oddity seeing as Azog rarely allowed himself such weakness. In fact, his whole behavior was off. For him to simply collapse into the chair, even in front of Blodog who had known him since childhood was...he had not seen Azog so low since the days after Aslir died in childbirth. 

Sighing, Blodog bent down and added fuel to the fire. He would not have this conversation in the dark. **"Your Könül suffers,"** he says once the room was brighter. 

**"I know,"** Azog chuckles a low, cruel thing. "And I know not what to do." Looking up to meet Blodog's eyes, he sneered, **"But I am too cruel to let him go."**

**"No,"** Blodog grimaced, **"No one can fault you for that."**

**"Accept for Thorin,"** Azog added. 

**"Yes, accept for Thorin," **Blodog echoed.****

**"Perhaps,"** Blodog suggested after a moment of listening to the fire cackle, **"Perhaps you could win the favor of his Övlad,** Fili? **Show your Thorin you mean them no harm and he may warm to you."**

Azog frowned, **"You truly think it that easy?"**

**"Winning the favor of** Fili **will be no easy task."** Blodog clarifies. Where Thorin tolerated his and the servants presence, Fili had fallen into a habit of snarling at any Orc who dared to come too close to the dwarves and screaming when Thorin was taken from his sight for too long. **"But I believe you should try."**

****

**"It will be difficult getting the boy alone."** Azog said after a moment of thought. **"But worth it."** Never had Azog so hated being an Orc. 

****

Unknown to Azog and Blodog at the time, but it would soon be necessary to keep the two dwarves apart. 

****


	3. Chapter 3

That day Thorin spent in bed, fast asleep with Fili cradled close to his chest. Though he didn't know it.

That is the horror of dreams, Thorin will later reflect, as he lay against his Warg, that one cannot tell waking from sleep, reality from nightmare.

But at that moment, Thorin dreamt. He dreamt of his days in Erebor, so long ago, when his beard was not trimmed in mourning and his mother was still alive to braid the token of Durin's Heirs in his hair.

"Do you ever comb yoru hair, _inùdoy_?" his mother pretended to scowl as she gently undid the knots in his hair.

Thorin sighed and tipped his head back slightly to give his mother more room, enjoying the feeling of fingers in his hair, "Why would I do that when I know you will."

"Utterly spoilt," his mother teased, lightly tapping his head with the butt of the comb.

Somewhere to his left, he heard the tumbling steps and loud laughter of dwarflings at play. It seemed Dis and Frerin had returned from their lessons.

"Your siblings will be the death of me," Mama laughed, tying off his beard and pulling him back so his head rested under her chin. "But better happy and making mischief than sulking. Your sister has some lungs."

Thorin nodded, remembering the last time Dis had smiled freely. It had been before Frerin has fallen sick and Fili had turned tw...

But that didn't make any sense. Dis was 8! And Frerin has never fallen sick, not even with a seasonal cough. What had he been thin...

Waking with a start, he sat up and flung the covers off of him and clutched his chest. He could feel his heart racing and tears prickling the corner of his eyes. Damn it! He had to go and ruin it didn't he? Couldn't even have some peace in his dreams.

Besides him, he heard Fili shift and mumble, "Uncle?" he asked, eyes two tiny blue slits in the darkness of the room. It seems they had slept the day away.

"Shhh, go back to bed, Fili," Thorin said, covering Fili's eyes with his hand, feeling his eyelashes flutter against his palm. "I'm fine." It took some time, but he smiled when he felt Fili settle, his break deepening in slumber. He carefully got out of bed, placing a pillow where he sat a moment before for Fili to cling to before making his way to the bathroom.

Sighing, he dunked his head into the basin before grabbing a wash cloth and wiping the back of his neck to get rid of his sleep-sweat. Dreamily, he watched a droplet of water slip down from his eyelash along his cheek to drop off his chin. Slowly, he re-drew the path his finger and noticed the dirt under his nails. It was black.

_"Oh, Thorin..."_

Hissing through clenched teeth in an aborted shriek, he spun around and nearly lost his footing to collide with the table and send the basing shattering to the floor.

" _Shhh, my dear, do not worry so. I will not hurt you_ ," the voice resounded through the room. It was a warm voice, a voice that called for you to trust it.

" _Who are you?_ Thorin asked, slowly letting go of the table and walking into the main room where he could see no one but Fili, still fast asleep in their bed. Outside, he could see the moon was full.

" _Come with me and I will explain..._ " The voice called to him as the door to their rooms opened.

Outside, the hallways where lit and the guards nowhere to be found. But still the voice beckoned him and he followed. Why did he follow? Thorin did not know. But he felt safe with this voice as he felt safe with his Mother and Dwalin, both who he missed so dearly that he felt surely his heart would fall out of his chest if but to ease his suffering. And so he missed the voice so dearly when it did not speak to him that at times he would break into a run, breath harsh and eyes near tears when he felt it had not spoken to him enough.

Finally, he found himself at the set of two doors, deep in the center of Azanulbizar, doors that led to the Old Mines not yet occupied by the orcs. Pushing the doors open, he felt his breath leave him in a whoosh. All around him, from floor to ceiling, he saw Mithril. Veins upon veins of white gold, shimmering too brightly.

 _"It is beautiful isn't it?"_ The voice said as a hand entered his.

Turning, he smiled, _"I wish my family could see this."_

 _"One day, they will,"_ The voice belonged to a handsome dwarf, a bit older than him at 120 or so. He had dark, black hair and a strong Durin nose. His beard, so young as he was, put even his Father's to shame as it flowed in two neat ties to come together in the end at a braid.

Thorin laughed, _"No Dwarf shall ever see the inside of Azanulbizar again."_

 _"You do,"_ the Dwarf said, pulling Thorin forward into the mine.

Thorin smiled, a cruel, self-hating thing. _"Who are you?"_ he asks.

 _"Can you not guess?"_ he asked, his eyes flashing a Mithril hue just as the ground gave away beneath him.

Screaming, Thorin clung to the Dwarf in front of him. He smelt of dirt and steel and blood. Around them, the veins grew brighter and brighter until Thorin had to hid his face in the Dwarf's neck to keep from growing blind.

When he felt the ground return to them, he feared opening his eyes until the dwarf prompted him so and he let them become slits. It was dark. So dark that he should not have been able to see, for all that dwarven eyes thrived in darkness. Backing away, he turned to the Dwarf only to see he had changed, his face decayed and his eyes gold.

 _"Durin,"_ Thorin breathed, air coming out in cold puffs.

Durin smiled, his lips stretching too wide. _"My child, how the orcs hurt you."_

 _"I..."_ Thorin shook his head, _"Am I dead?"_

 _"Not yet, no,"_ Durin said. Thorin tried not to flinch when he placed a hand on his cheek, _"But soon. I will help you."_

 _"Help me?"_ Thorin cried, stumbling backwards. Around him, the blackness wavered and from the corner of his eye, he could make out a tomb.

Durin grabbed his arm and pulled him close, _"No, no, Thorin. Don't run."_

 _"Durin, please. You're scaring me,"_ Thorin said, trying to take his hand back, but failing. He was too strong.

 _"I won't let them hurt you,"_ Durin growled. His eyes were yellow. Struggling, Thorin lost his footing and fell into Durin's chest when the dwarf had pulled him forward. He smelt of death. _"So you're going to do something for me."_

 _"You're mad,"_ Thorin hissed.

 _"You think me mad now, but you will thank me later,"_ Durin reassured, _"And so now, you will li-"_ Growling when Thorin tried to pull away, he tightened his grip until Thorin stilled, sure his arm would shatter, _"listen to me,"_ he hissed, _"You will kill Fili and..."_

Spitting in Durin's face, Thorin growled, _"I would rather marry an orc!"_

 _"I would see our line dead first,"_ Durin snarled, backhanding Thorin so he fell to the ground, skin smarting. _"Now listen to me, Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror."_

Seizing his chance, Thorin tackled Durin to the ground and pinned the elder dwarf to the ground, hands under his back and legs pinned by Thorin's own. Wrapping his hands around Durin's neck and squeezing, he snarled, "No one hurts my Fili!"

Durin's flesh was slippery and cold under his hand and Thorin closed his eyes, unsure if he'd be able to stomach watching the life leave another dwarf's eyes. It was only when he felt the neck in his hands grow slim that he opened his eyes and felt his heart die as he came to understand what he saw.

Beneath him, Fili stared up at him, eyes betrayed and expression stone still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter! And remember:
> 
> Langauge Key:  
> Plain = Common  
> Italicized = Khuzdul  
> Bold = Azerdajin


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin does what he thinks is right.

Azog was in the middle of Council when the Guard receiving.

He was a young Orc, a new recuit by the stiffness of his back. He was wheezing."Sir, you are needed," The Guard said between breaths, clutching his chest. There was a fear in his eyes that Azog had not seen in a long time.

He took a moment to schedule another meeting before he was following the Guard through winding hallway to winding hallway until they're nearing the Royal Hall where Azog felt his heart plummet. What had Thorin done now?

The first time Thorin had tried to escape, he'd nearly succeeded.

Azog had been hopeful that Thorin would be able to adopt to his new life easily, but he had misjudged his **bədhövsələ** and Thorin had made it to the outer ring of Ev before being stopped by a pair of local gate guards. After that, he'd tripled security to keep that from happening again, but Thorin had still managed to slip past his guards five more times. For his guards to have coming running for him, to barge in on a Council Meeting, Azog can only imagined the chaos.

And so when they reached Thorin's room, he was not surprised, though a bit disappointed, to see what looked like half of his royal guard wandering in an out of Thorin's rooms.

"Brother," Blodog called, clasping a hand on his shoulder and leading him into Thorin's rooms. He had never set foot in here since delegating it as Thorin's rooms. He had refused to, not until Thorin had invited him in. He was disappointed to see that they hadn't changed.

" **What is going on, Blodog?"** Azog asked as he was lead to the door to the bathing chambers.

Blodog smiled, but his eyes were far too sad, " **Your** **Könül** **calls for you."** He said, before calling to the door, "He is here, **mənim şahzadə**."

...

Thorin felt a weight leave his shoulders when he heard Blodog return with Azog in tow.

Sitting up, unaware of the shattered pieces of the basin still scattered across the floor, he let his head fall against the door with a soft thump, "Can you hear me?"

Outside he heard movement before the orc king answered, "Aye. I hear you."

If the situation was any less then it was, Thorin knew he would have laughed at the accent now that he couldn't see the face behind it.

Pathetic.

"You love me, right?" Thorin asked.

Again there was silence before Azog replied, "Of course."

Thorin laughed quietly, "Of course," he repeats, "Of course." Clearing his throat, he focused, "On your love for me, swear to protect Fili from anything at all costs."

...

Once again Azog could saying nothing and he looked helplessly to Blodog for help, but his friend, who Azog realized had probably heard nothing from his place above, shook his head.

"Thorin..." Azog swallowed, "Thorin, if someone has threatened..."

_SmASH!_

Azog jerked back, voice lodged in his throat, as he heard Throrin snarl, "Swear! You claim to love me then swear!"

"Shhhh," Azog tried to calm him down and wished, not for the first time, that he could rip the door off its hinges and gather Thorin in his arms and tell him it was going to be all right. "I swear, Thorin. I swear. Now please...please, tell me what is going on."

There is a moment of silence before Azog picks up on the sound of muffled sobs and can feel his heart sink even further.

"I've done something terrible..."

...

There was silence from the other side as Thorin explained what he'd done; and, when he was done, he couldn't see past his tears. Why? Why had he done it? Why had he had to hurt the one last good thing in his world?

And now he had to give it up.

Once he was down, Azog didn't say anything for long now. If the orc had truly loved him before, there was no way he could love him now. And Thorin wouldn't blame him. Who could love a murder such as he?

For a moment, he imagined he could almost hear an echo of an " _oh, Thorin..._ " and it took everything he had not to throw up.

"Thorin, please come outside," Azog asked. His voice was low, pleading.

Thorin's first reaction was to refuse, to remind Azog what he had done. He wasn't safe. He couldn't be trusted.

But that wasn't what came out of his mouth: "Only if my hands are bound."

...

Watching the guards bind Thorin, as if he was some common criminal, was terrible. He refused to believe that Thorin had done what he'd done on purpose. He knew he hadn't. He could hear it in his voice and see it in his body language: the regret, the defeat, the hate. To know how severely Thorin was punishing himself only made Azog hate himself more. If only he was strong enough to let Thorin go!

"This isn't necessary," Azog said helplessly.

Thorin smiled.

Whatever he was going to say next, Azog didn't know and it didn't matter.

"Uncle!" Fili screamed, rushing past Azog to collide into Thorin's leg. "No. No. _No!_ ," his voice wavered on the edge of sobs, "You can't take him. Uncle. You can't go!"

Azog watched as all the blood left Thorin's face. He knew what Thorin was going to do. He knew. But it didn't stop the feeling of helplessness he felt as he watched Thorin close his eyes and turn away, leaving Fili to grasp uselessly the edge of his nightshirt.

"Uncle?" Fili whimpered, eyes tearing slightly.

Unable to just watch, Azog kneeled and slowly pulled Fili away. Catching Thorin's eye, he silently pleaded for him to change his mind. He wouldn't have hurt Fili on purpose. Why did he insist on punishing them both?

He felt his heart finally shatter when Thorin shook his head.

"I'm sorry!" Fili said, pulling Azog's attention back to watch the tears finally start to fall. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry! Uncle, pl- _please_."

"Be," Thorin paused, swallowing hard as he attempted to collect himself, "Be good for Mr. Azog, OK?"

"No. Nooo," Fili moaned, reaching up with two small hands to be picked up by his Uncle despite Azog's attempt to make sure the child didn't fall out of his arms, "Pwease," _hic_ , "Pwease, Un-Uncle, Don't go. I'm sorry. I'm sorr-ry. I'll be good. I _promise_. Please."

"Shhh," Thorin tried to reassure him as his own tears fell. It was a horrible image to see such a fake smile color his lips. "It isn't your fault. Don't say such things. Hush, my dear Fili. Everything is going to be fine," Reaching out with his bound hands, he ruffled Fili's hair a bit and allowed Fili to hold his hand for a moment before pulling away, "Be good, ok? I love you. Don't forget, everything is going to OK."

Azog couldn't watch anymore of this and he signaled his guards to take Thorin to his rooms where he'd hopefully be able to talk some sense into Thorin.

He wasn't prepared to have to stop Fili from launching from his arms in a vain attempt to reach his uncle: "Unnnnclleee!"

"You'll see your Uncle soon," Azog tried to reassure Fili. But it didn't seem like Fili heard him as he screamed and pleaded for his Uncle to return long after Thorin had left his sight.

Finally, when his voice was near raw and his eyes had begun to droop that Azog was able to settle the child against him. At that point, every guard had left, unable to watch as the child threw itself into hysteria, and it was only Blodog and himself left.

"Don't leave me, too," Fili whimpered as Azog sat down on one of the coaches, rocking the child in his arms as he had done with his own son when he was small. "I'll be good. Please, don't leave me too..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this kind of sucks...
> 
> Translations:  
>  **bədhövsələ -** Spitfire/hot-tempered/unrestrained - used as a nickname, usually for naughty children
> 
> Languages:  
> Plain = Common  
> Italicized = Khuzdul  
> Bold = Azerdajin


End file.
